Dean gets a cat
by Balloons go POP
Summary: I think the title is pretty self explanatory. Dean finds a new ally against Sam. Chapter 4 is now up. Puppies, puppies and more puppies!
1. Evil incarnate

**DISCLAIMER**: Is not mine, doesn't even belong to someone I know. Don't sue because I have nothing to give.

**DEAN GETS A CAT**

The Impala was whining. A high pitched whine that was driving Dean round the bloody bend. It was the most infuriating sound he had ever heard. Worse than a Banshee, worse than a Reaper's call, worse than Sam singing in the shower. And it was giving him a headache. It wasn't even a normal headache you know where the whole world gets that annoying blur and everything seem like it's taking ten times as long, but that blood boiling one where even the slightest sound feels like an icepick to the ear drum, where the smallest movement causes you to want to shoot yourself in the foot so that something else hurts more. One of _those _head aches.

But what was pissing him off the most was the fact that Sam just slept on, oblivious of the agony that he was in. The bastard was even snoring. Dean gritted his teeth. Sam rolled over so that he was facing his brother instead of the window. His mouth was slightly open and the sound of his breathing was like a roaring freight train to Dean's delicate ears.

A fist swung into Sam's arm and he woke with a start.

"What?" Sam asked, disorientated.

"Don't speak… Don't make a sound… Don't even breath." His brother replied in a whisper.

Sam looked around for any signs of trouble. His fingers twitched against the pistol he had sitting next to him on the seat. There was nothing. The only thing that felt wrong was that the car was so silent. He absently flicked on the radio, wincing when all he heard was static.

"TURN IT OFF!!!" Dean yelled his hands leaving the wheel to clutch at his head.

The car swerved dangerously and Dean grabbed the wheel in his vice like grip and veered back onto the road.Sam looked at his brother in shock "What the hell…? What is wrong with you?"Dean flinched at the volume of Sam's voice. "Headache" he answered in explanation.Sam stared at Dean taking in the gaunt pallor of his skin, the sweat on his brow, the tightly pulled lips and the crazed eyes.Dean was rarely sick but when he was it tended to be bad.Sam gestured for his brother to pull over the car. For once Dean did what he was told and parked the car at the side of the deserted highway.Sam was expecting Dean to throw himself into the backseat and try to sleep his headache off so he was surprised when Dean lifted the bonnet of the car to look at the steaming engine.

Sam jumped out and stood next to his brother staring at the Impala's heart. Dean gestured at some specific bit of machinery. Sam didn't know what exactly he was supposed to be looking at; auto shop was never his subject.But Dean was like the Impala whisperer and if he said it was broke, it was broke.Dean trunched around to the boot of the car and grabbed a small bag of tools. His head pounded each time they clanged together and he felt like he was gunna hurl, but there was no way in hell he was about to let Sam do anything to his car.

Sam watched dumfounded as his barely conscious brother unscrewed the cover plate from the engine. And that's when he saw it. Curled up in a dark alcove of the engine was a tiny ball of sweaty fluff. Dean swore at the thing saying that if it had damaged his engine he'd feed it to a Wendigo.Grabbing the thing in one large hand Dean flung it onto the ground with a growl and proceeded to systematically check every component of his beloved car's engine. Sam smiled in amusement down at the little kitten. It sneezed with a vengeance and sat down in the dust to lick clean every inch of its little body. He wasn't sure exactly what colour the creature had been originally but it was now the colour of soot and engine grease.

Dean shut the Impala's hood quietly though whether it was because of his headache or just because he refused to slam the doors let alone the bonnet of his car Sam was unsure. Dean shot the mangy cat a look that could have frozen Mount Vesuvius before climbing into the backseat and closing his eyes.

Sam stared at the little thing and then at his almost comatose brother. He looked like he was sleeping. Was he sleeping? He could get in big trouble for this. Sam inched forward to the passenger side rear window. It was down so he stuck his head in to look down on Dean's face. He wasn't moving. That was good. Gently Sam shuffled back and scooped up the kitten. It looked up at him with big blue eyes and looked so helpless Sam had no qualms in shoving it into his jacket before slipping into the Drivers seat and starting the engine.

The damn cat wouldn't stop wriggling. It climbed up Sam's T-shirt digging its claws into the fabric so it could scramble up and stick its head out of Sam's jacket. The little ball of fluff rubbed its face under Sam's jaw and Sam almost laughed. Almost, he wasn't going to risk Dean waking up. Glancing away from the road for a second Sam grabbed the Kitten by the scruff of its neck and plopped it down on the seat next to him. They spent the next ½ an hour in relative peace until Sam realised that the scuffing sound he heard wasn't coming from tyres on gravel but rather from a cat sharpening her claws on Dean's pristine leather upholstery.

Sam swept the cat off the seat and onto the floor in what had to be some kind of land speed record. It wasn't much just a few lines of grey against the blackness of the seat, most people wouldn't notice, most people weren't Dean. It was official Sam was a dead man.

The little kitten continued its exploration of what it considered its new domain by stalking Sam's shoe laces. The cat watched in fascination as Sam's shoes pressed down on the accelerator, break and clutch. She reached out one tiny paw and swiped at Sam's lace as he released the clutch after going around a corner.

Sam only realised the cat was playing near his feet when her sharp claws sunk into his ankle. He clamped down his cry of pain successfully, Thank God, and peered down to see the kitty playing with his shoe lace. Glancing about to make sure there were no other cars around Sam reached down and seized the fiend only to have her slip from his grasp and squeeze herself between the seat and the door. Sam couldn't get his fingers down there to get her out so he decided that maybe if he let her be she'd come out on her own.

Come out she did. Only in the opposite direction to the one Sam had hoped. The kitten scrambled out into the expanse of the backseat. Sam prayed to every God he could think of that the stupid cat wouldn't wake Dean up.

Sam watched with some sort of macabre fascination in the rear view mirror as the kitten climbed up Dean's black jean clad leg and proceeded to spin in circles on his chest. Just as the kitten looked like she was getting ready to settle Dean rolled over onto his side sending the cat down to the floor in a flail of paws and meows. She hissed at Dean's sleeping form shooting him a look that was two parts adorable and one part evil. She twitched nervously before leaping in one bound back up onto Dean's seat. She put her cold nose against Dean's warm cheek and he pulled away sleepily mumbling something about Wet Willy's and payback. Sam snorted at the memory of the two of them going through a 'Wet Willy' stage in primary school.

The cat rubbed against Dean's shoulder before curling up in the nook of his elbow and going to sleep.

After four anxious hours Sam finally pulled into a motel. He tried to park smoothly and quietly so not as to wake Dean. Dean continued to slumber so Sam gently unlocked the back door and reached for the kitten. Inch by inch his fingers moved forward until they finally touched the soft fur of his tormentor. Dean awoke with a start, naturally disorientated in finding his brothers face inches from his own straining to reach for something on his person. Sam was so hell bent on getting to that damn cat before Dean saw it he didn't even notice his brother open his eyes.

He jumped a mile when Dean said "Dude, What are you doing? Trying to mug me?"

Sam fell on his ass out the car, landing in a puddle of something that looked like mud but smelt like manure.

The kitten looked down on him from the back seat with utter contempt before she stretched her neck and rubbed her face on Dean's jeans. Dean absently stroked the top of her head as he laughed at his brother.

Dean scooped the kitten up into his arms and turned so he could look into its little cat face. "Well, well Mr Killmouseky, it seems you have a knack for pissing off my little brother" he laughed out loud when he saw the mess Sam had made of his clothes.

"That considered I suppose I can forgive you for hitching a ride in my engine." He cast one last look at his brother's murderous face before strolling towards the motel room, his headache completely gone.

"You and me cat are going to get on just fine."

This is just a little piece of funny I wrote on a boring Sunday afternoon. I really hope you enjoyed it. Please **_review!_** and give me your opinion. Good? Bad? Stunningly mediocre? Let me know. I hope everyone had a great weekend.


	2. I am not jealous of a cat!

**_Disclaimer:_** The characters of Dean, Sam and that magnificent car belong to someone else. Mr Killmouseky however is all mine.

**_Author's note:_** I'd like to thank everyone who has reviewed 'Dean gets a cat' and/or 'Loosing me would mean he was wrong.' It means a lot to all writers to get some feedback and even more when the reviews are as nice as those that have been sent to me. Many people have asked that I continue to write the adventures of Mr Killmouseky and Dean so I have put my larger fic on hold to bring you this next instalment of 'Dean gets a cat'.

**I am not jealous of a cat!**

Here is list of the things Dean hates about his cat.

1.) _He_ is a **_she_**. Dean Winchester doesn't want some chick constantly pouting and moping and snuggling up to him when he's pissed off at her just so he'll pay for her dinner and then take her home. And then once he does take her back to his place she gets all coy and makes friends with Sam just to make him jealous. He doesn't need this crap.

2.) He hates the way she can wrap him around her little finger….ah claw? All she has to do is give him that look and he'll pat her or feed her or kick Sam out of the front seat so she can sit next to him. It's infuriating and a complete diminishment of his manly prowess.

3.) Sam **loves** this cat. He seems to enjoy snapping pictures on his phone of Dean and his kitten napping or watching TV or sharing a bag of Doritos and a mouse. Bastard has 63 photos already and even stealing his phone to delete them is no good because Sam sent them to his secure email address that Dean doesn't know the password to. Just wait Sammy you are so going down.

4.) She costs a friggin fortune. He had to take her to the vet to get shots and make sure the Impala didn't bite her or something. She needs food…. And she's a total snob! She won't eat the generic brand cat food only the swanky $12 a tiny can stuff. A tiny little grey kitten costs more to feed than his 23 year old, 6" 4 brother. It's completely ridiculous. Not to mention the fact he had to buy a little basket for her to sleep in and one of those squeaky mouse toys that she loves to squeak just as he and Sam are about to fall asleep.

5.) She's impossible to catch, little shit runs faster than that Necromancer they hunted a while back. And that dead chick could run! She hides under beds, in bathroom cupboards; she even managed to climb into the Impala's exhaust pipe…. He very nearly killed her then and there. And don't even get him started on the kitty litter tray.

Dean Winchester ran through a complete list of 24 grievances his new friend had committed in the three days he'd had her. There was only one plus he could really think of to owning a kitten. Girls loved pets. The chick that runs the motel practically took off her bra when she saw Dean feeding his cat. Dean grinned at the memory.

It was early morning and the sun had just started to creep out across the sky. The dingy motel room slowly brightened and Dean listened to the quiet sound of his kid brother sleeping in the other single bed. Dean looked over at Sam and snorted in amusement when he saw Sam spread eagled on his back, his feet hanging a good foot off the end of the bed. Dude was way too tall. He had one arm draped across his eyes and seemed to be sleeping soundly. Which made for a nice change to the nightmares and visions. Dean swung a leg out of the bed and threw off his covers. Making his way silently into the bathroom he grabbed a quick shower and decided to make a donut run. Breakfast food of champions.

Sam woke with a start about half an hour later and lay for a while wondering what had woken him. The message Dean had left taped to his forehead said he'd gone out to get food so he knew Dean hadn't woken him. That's when he saw her. She was sitting at the foot of his bed just staring at him. Her big blue eyes wouldn't blink and when she licked her lips and twitched her whiskers Sam was truly fearful of his life. They stared at each other with growing malice, each unwilling to be the first to look away. Eventually Sam cracked it and threw his pillow at her but she darted out of the way just in the nick of time. Her tail swished at him with disdain and she leapt across the small space separating the beds to curl up in the warmth of Dean's bedclothes. Sam shot her a look of pure hatred.

"I saved you scrawny ass back there you know? If it weren't for me you'd be road kill by now. What do you think about that?"

She ignored him.

Sam shuffled into the bathroom to brush his pearly whites. Then he made his bed, then changed his mind and buried the cat in his bed sheets. Mr Killmouseky squealed and clawed her way out of her makeshift prison. She shot Sam a look that could kill and proceeded to march across the room with her tail stylishly swinging to and fro like a pendulum. Sam sat himself down at the table and powered up his laptop. After up loading the latest photos of Dean and his cat (blackmail is a beautiful thing) he surfed for a new gig. They'd finished up in Little Glen (a town neither little nor remotely resembling a glen) quicker than they'd expected so they were in need of something new to kill. He added some new 'maybes' into his favourite list and closed his computer.

Where had that damn cat gone?

She wasn't near him, or eating, or drinking or using the litter box. She wasn't in the beds, under the beds or stuck in the space between the beds and the wall. She hadn't drowned herself in the toilet, shower or sink. She wasn't hiding in Dean's duffel bag or Sam's backpack. Sam searched frantically for the diminutive lioness but couldn't find her anywhere.

Dean came home to find his brother lying in his boxers, on his stomach, on the floor with his eye pressed up against a mouse hole. A torch was on in his hand and he had a box of cat treats in the other. Dean watched in amusement through the window of the motel room as Sam backed up on his hands and knees, shook the box, called out the cats name, then launched himself back at the hole to try and catch a glimpse of the little mutt.

Dean very nearly scalded himself of the super hot coffee he'd grabbed along with the jam donuts. His sides ached from laughing so hard and trying to stay quiet at the same time. Mr Killmouseky sat on the window sill just behind the glass looking at him disapprovingly. Poor Sam, he really shouldn't have left him alone with a being that had such a superior intellect.

After ten more minutes Sam gave up and started swearing at the mouse hole.

"You stupid bloody thing… You think Dean likes you more than me? Well he doesn't, he only keeps you around because he feels sorry for you. And he'll get bored in a few days and leave you one the side of a road somewhere and I hope something EATS YOU!" Sam threw himself onto his sheet-less bed and curled into the foetal position. He'd faced down the devil himself and survived why was this damn cat annoying him so much?

Dean entered the room, chucked his keys and wallet on the bench and handed his frazzled brother a cup of still warm coffee. Sam couldn't meet Dean's gaze. The first pet Dean had ever had and Sam lets it get itself stuck in the wall. How she'd got in there he didn't want to think about, but it had been the only explanation. She'd been nowhere he could find.

Dean sat watching his brother in silence. He didn't ask about the cat, he was enjoying watching Sam squirm too much. Sam ate three Jam donuts not even tasting them before he noticed the feral grin on Dean's face.

Rightfully suspicious Sam raised one eyebrow. "What?"

Dean gestured toward the window and Sam saw to his shock that bloody cat licking her paws on the window sill.

The look on Sam's face was priceless and Dean laughed uncontrollably for a few minutes, not stopping until he was blue in the face and close to asphyxiation.

Finally pulling himself together Dean brushed the sugar from his lips and ruffled Sam's hair.

"Don't worry Sammy, there's no need to be jealous, you're still my favourite lower being."

Laughing he scooped up his bags and the cat before heading out to the Impala.

The door slammed shut on Sam's screamed reply of "I am not jealous of a cat!"

20 minutes later two men, three duffle bags, one laptop, 348 weapons and a tiny grey cat roared out of town in the Impala.

Sam sighed and banged his head against the window.

"Dean can I get a puppy?"

-FIN

WOW that was **FUN** to write. Was it funny? I cracked myself up. But that doesn't mean it was funny it just means I need to up my medication (Joke, I'm not really crazy, don't listen to them, I'm really not. _Shut up Bec_)

OKAY GUYS you know what to do, press that pretty purple button and **_review_**.

There might be a sequel, how would you like to hear about Sam begging Dean for puppy?

Let me know.

**PEACE**, love moi.


	3. Blackmail is a beautiful thing

**_Author's note:_** I **love** my reviewers. Isn't this site just amazing? It brings together like minded people from all over the world. I've had reviews from France, the United States, England…. And a freak who lives few towns over. This chapter of 'Dean gets a cat' is dedicated to one of my best friends. Bec, this one is for you. (P.S This was the surprise)

**_Disclaimer:_** No animals were harmed in the writing of this fanfiction. My muse however needed extensive physiotherapy :)

You know the drill; anything you recognise from the show belongs to the show. Mr Killmouseky and any NEW characters are mine. I hope you enjoy this new instalment of the Winchester pet adventures.

**Blackmail is a beautiful thing.**

Dean Winchester was humiliated. Completely and utterly humiliated. He would never be able to show his face in any respectable bar again. Who was he kidding? He'd never be able to show his face anywhere again. It was official he was moving to Greenland. No wait, that country was way too populated…. Maybe the South Pole? He'd heard Antarctica was nice and deadly this time of year.

Sam watched in amusement as Dean absently swished his beer around the glass. He'd been nursing that pint for close to an hour and had only swallowed a few sips. His brother looked so pitiful Sam almost felt sorry for him. _Almost._

Dean let out a deep sigh and risked a quick glance around the room. The bar they were in was situated just outside Koomsan Louisiana and was typical for a hunter's hangout. Dark, dank and full of quiet, lethal, men and women of the trade. It was a favourite of the Winchester brothers when they were in this part of the country. But Sam new that after tonight there was no way in hell Dean was ever coming back to this bar, he'd probably refuse to enter the state again.

Sam was going down……

That lanky, college FREAK was going so far down he'd end up in China. He was going to be so dead that nothing could save him. God! Dean hated his brother.

_Two days earlier._

"…..But why?"

"Because I said so."

"'Because I said so' isn't a reason Dean"

"I said _NO_ Sam."

'You're not the boss of me."

"Could you sound any more like a five year old?"

"Why not?"

"Because"

"God you are such a hypocrite."

"I am not!"

"You are too."

"Am not"

"Are tooooo."

"Am nooooot…..? I am not doing this."

"But _Deeeaaan_."

The Impala was screaming down the highway towards Louisiana. Their dad had sent them a text giving them co-ordinates for a small town that was under development. Sam figured it would be a routine disturbed spirit and wasn't particularly worried about facing off with the ghost. Because he had no research to do, no weapons to clean, no spell to memorise Sam was spending the trip begging his brother to let him have a puppy.

Dean was coming very close to throttling his baby brother. How the hell Dad had put up with them both was beyond him.

Sam had been through begging, screaming, arguing, almost weeping but not quite… after all he had a reputation to uphold. He'd tried bribing; wheedling, even offering to do all the washing for a year, but Dean wasn't having any of it.

"But you have a cat….."

It was that argument that Dean was having a hard time countering. After all it was difficult to claim that pets and hunting didn't mix when he had a kitten curled up on his lap.

Mr Killmouseky seemed to notice she was the centre of attention and woke from her nap to take advantage of it. Sam pointed at her viciously.

"That thing doesn't constitute a pet, Dean. She's evil incarnate. The devil in disguise." Mr Killmouseky yawned delicately and swished her tail happily from her throne upon Dean's lap.

Dean scratched her in that special spot behind her left ear. She twitched slightly in pleasure.

"Don't worry baby he doesn't mean it." She regarded Sam superiorly and snuggled back into Dean.

"I do mean it….. She's a monster."

"No she's not."

"Is….. Oh forget it. Do I need to leave you two alone?" he asked in disgust as the cat started licking Dean's fingers.

Dean smiled evilly at his brother. "You want a pet so bad? You can share mine if you want." Before Sam could recoil in horror Dean scooped his kitten up and dropped her in his brother's lap. They both shot him an identical look of disgust.

Dean burst out laughing.

"You two have a lot in common. I think you should bond over your mutual love of…Emo rock music…Catnip….I know, me"

Mr Killmouseky tilted her furry little head back and regarded Sam with big blue eyes. She stared at him for a long moment before shivering violently and curling up against his stomach, nestling into the warmth of his body.

Sam sat in complete stillness in the dark of their motel room. It was even cornier then their usual digs, Elvis themed, enough said. Dean slumbered peacefully in his purple Cadillac shaped bed, his soft breathing echoing in the small room. That was what Sam wanted to hear. Standing slowly from his position sitting on his bed Sam crept toward the bathroom. The shocking green tiles glowed even in the dark. Sam really didn't want to think about how they got that colour.

His prize was wrapped in a plastic bag he'd stashed in the shower recess.

'The room smelt funny.'

That was Dean's first thought as he opened his eyes the morning after Sam's midnight run to the bathroom. It was a weird smell, he knew he knew that smell, he just couldn't remember where he knew it from. Yawning Dean threw back the covers and frowned; something was stuck to his forehead. Cheeky ass had taped a note to his face. Boy was a quick learner.

Went out for breakfast, bring you back something.

Hey….Can I have that puppy now?

Did Sam really think that just because he brought him a lukewarm cup of coffee and half a doughnut he was going to give in?

I don't think so Sammy.

Dean grinned and jumped out of bed and looked around for his cat. Mr Killmouseky wasn't anywhere he could immediately see. But he could hear her meowing for her saucer of milk so he knew she was around here somewhere. That was when he saw it. The bundle of pink he saw on the corner of Sam's bed wasn't a hippie T-Shirt from his college days. It was his bloody CAT! Dean stood staring in shock as his little grey, now neon pink; kitten looked up at him happily. She stretched her legs and sheathed her claws before prancing over to him and swirling about his legs.

It was like some thing out of a really bad horror movie. A really, really bad horror movie where the ghosts are men in sheets and the damsel in distress is a cross dressing Ebola victim. One of those movies.

Mr Killmouseky didn't seemed fazed about her new look. She frolicked around contentedly while Dean warmed up some milk in the 30 year old microwave. Setting it down on the threadbare carpet he watched as she lapped it up. He liked his kitten, she as a major pain in the ass, but he liked her. But how the hell was he ever going to live down the fact that she was pink. He'd have to hide her in the car or in a motel until it grew out. He knew Sam wouldn't be so stupid as to use a water soluble dye. This wasn't going to grow out for months.

Dean sighed as if the weight of the world rested on his strong shoulders. Smiling sadly down at his diminutive friend he headed for the bathroom to take a shower. Brushing his teeth in under the hot stream Dean stepped into the feral green shower. He knew for a fact that the green wasn't mould, because he'd made Sam scrub the thing last might. But still, the green thing freaked him out, it was like showering in a Gatorade bottle. Having soaped himself up with the fruity liquid soap stuff Sam uses and shampooed his hair Dean clamoured out, wrapped himself in a towel and flopped down on his bed, with his pink cat to watch MTV until Sam came back with some food.

When Sam waltzed through the door 15 minutes later the last thing Dean suspected for him to do was start photographing him half naked. Give him food…yes. Photograph…no. Once he'd gotten over the shock Dean threw the customary bedside bible at his brothers retreating back. It was another 10 minutes before Sam reappeared with the doughnuts.

"Dude what the hell was that about?" Dean asked more perplexed than pissed off, after all he had a healthy appreciation of his own beauty.

Sam grinned. "That my dear, sweet, god like brother, was the stating of my terms." His grin turned malicious.

"Either you let me have a puppy or I send copies of these to every person you've ever met." He threw a handful of shiny photos down on the bed next to Dean.

Dean picked them up like they were a bomb waiting to go off. He slowly shuffled through each frame taking time to absorb every detail.

Sam watched as conflicting emotions flittered across his brother's face. Fury, amusement, fear, he finally settled on down right wonder.

'I gotta admit Sammy, this is pretty good. But so what? Photo's of me and my cat napping or sharing Doritos will just increase my admiration in the eyes of the chicks." He threw the stack of photos back at his brother. "They dig a guy who's sharing and caring."

Sam smiled grimly "I didn't want it to come to this Dean. I really didn't."

Sam passed him a few more photos.

Dean's mouth gapped open like a gold fish.

There he was, lying on the bed, wrapped in just a motel towel, with his cat curled up on his chest, and to top it off they were both PINK!

"You bastard…" Dean whispered.

"Revenge for the Nair."

"Yeah but at least you could go out bald. What the hell am I supposed to do?"

Dean jumped up and ran to the cracked mirror by the door. Absently combing his fingers threw his now shockingly pink hair. He scowled at Sam, who, to his credit, had yet to give in to his obvious mirth.

"So what do you say?"

"I refuse to bargain with the likes of _you_." He spat out venomously.

Sam looked sadly at his, now neon brother.

"Too bad, you asked for it."

_Present._

"You did ask for it." Sam said knowingly.

"I want to know how you did it. How did you dye my hair in my sleep?"

Laughing Sam chugged down the remnants of his beer. "I didn't do it, you did."

Dean shook his head at his own stupidity. "The Shampoo?" he asked already knowing the answer.

"And the body wash…"

Sam grinned. "That will take a while to build to its full colour though, by tomorrow every hair on your body will be a lovely shade of orange." Dean looked dumbfounded. "Should clash beautifully with your hair."

Clapping his brother on the shoulder, Sam stood up. Leaning over to grab his jacket he whispered into Dean's ear.

"Kidding."

Dean elbowed him in the stomach.

"Jerk."

Dean stood up quickly almost pushing his brother to the floor.

"Come on dick wad lets go"

"Where we going?"

Sam smiled at him when as they threw down their money and left the bar. The late afternoon sun momentarily blinded him so he didn't see Dean wince and rub at his eyes in defeat.

"The pound doesn't close til 6. If we hurry you can get your stupid mutt before it shuts."

This chapter was harder to write than the two previous ones. Originally this story was going to be a one-shot but because of the many pleas form my lovely reviewers I've extended it. Thus I had to introduce some semblance of a plot. Please let me know if I succeeded. Hit that pretty little **_review_** button, you know you want too. Stay tuned because next chapter Sammy chooses his pup. Take care. XOXO


	4. Little minions of hell

**_Disclaimer:_** All recognizable characters belong to the studio, I only borrow them to play with and I promise they will go back in (almost) mint condition.

**_Author's note:_** Many thanks for the reviews people. The time you take to drop me a line is greatly appreciated. Thankyou!! This chapter is dedicated to my fantastic fans. : ) P.S I know I promised to update within a few days and it's now been more than a week. I'm sorry! Enrolling for Uni was more complicated than I originally thought. I hope the wait was worth it.

**Little minions of hell**

Koomsan County Pound was located about a mile out of town. Dean swore he could smell the stench as soon as they left the bar but for once Sam didn't argue the physical impossibilities of smelling something that was down wind from them. He wasn't going to risk Dean changing his mind. A part of Sam realised that Dean hadn't really given in to his childish prank. We were talking about the man who didn't speak for three months in order to win a $10 bet. Dean wouldn't have backed down from anything. So maybe Dean was just being nice to his kid brother for a change… whatever the reason Sam was going to get a dog. A real, live, breathing, not possessed by an evil veterinarian (don't ask), actual dog. With a tail and everything.

Dean looked across at Sam who was practically hanging out of the window in anticipation. He cruised slowly down the main street just to prolong Sam's agony. He knew Sam knew that any moment he could hang a U-turn and go back to the motel. And Sam knew, he knew, he knew.

The windows were down because it was a stinking hot day so Sam's mop of brown hair was blowing all over the place. He couldn't stop smiling so when Dean stepped on the accelerator and took the Impala up to fifth, Sam looked like one of those dogs drooling out the window, fur all askew.

The pound was a typical building, brown brick veneer home converted into a vet clinic and pound. Sam all but ran to the revolving door, seeming to revert to a 6 year old at the sight of all the puppies.

"One, Sam. You can only have _one_." Dean replied to the subliminal pouting Sam was sending his way.

Shrugging Sam left with the overweight assistant who had squished pink icing in his grey beard to look out the back.

Dean wandered absently around the front of the clinic, fingering the collars and leads before throwing himself into a much scuffed armchair to wait for his brother.

Sam was in Sammy heaven.There were puppies and dogs everywhere. Little dogs and big dogs and even _medium_ sized dogs. Wow.Sam listened intently to Marshall, the vet assistant, who lectured him on the responsibilities of pet ownership.

"A pet is for life Sam, not just for Christmas"

The fact that it was June was lost on the man but Sam nodded seriously all the same. 'Would you shut up you poor miserable old man and let me see the dogs' Sam thought to himself forcing his body to stand still even though his fingers were itching to pat some puppies. Eventually Marshall unlocked the big padlock that lead to the cages and shuffled in behind Sam who was off like a rocket.

Dean rolled his eyes at his watch; they'd been here for an hour already. What was taking so long? The clinic was supposed to close half an hour ago. Grabbing the black studded collar with the silver bell he'd chosen for Mr Killmouseky (he had to give her back some pride after the hair dye escapade, although she didn't seem to mind being pink) Dean shoved a baseball cap over his own offending hair and went in search of his brother.

He found Sam on his knees with his face up to a cage full of Dalmatian puppies. Their little spots stood out against their pure white background and they all had their little faces up against the bars licking Sam's nose. His brother giggled, he actually _giggled_. God the boy had **no **masculine pride. Dean cleared his throat loudly and Sam looked up like a dear caught in a headlight.

"Ahhh…' he yanked his face away from the cage "Hey Dean"

Dean shook his head, letting Sam know that there was no way he was going to live this down. Dean looked around at the cages eyeing each dog off until it looked away. He was the alpha dog here and don't you forget it!

Sam was incredibly embarrassed to have been caught basking in the sheer delight that was puppies. But to be caught by Dean…the brother who still didn't let him forget about that one time when he was three that he ate a caterpillar, was the worst possible thing.

Dean looked around condescendingly at the animals in their cages, his macho stance seemed to say 'Nah nah ni nah nah, you're in a cage and I'm not, so there. "

Sam was so caught up in the hilarious mental image of Dean sticking his tongue out at a group of dogs that he was completely oblivious to the fact Dean was trying to get his attention.

"Oi… Sam…"

"Dude…"

"Oh my **GOD** it's a **clown**!"

"Damn girl put your clothes back on, my brother's not interested."

Sam was still leaning against the cage door grinning like …. someone who grins a lot. Dean slapped him not so gently across the head.

"Dude, pick one already I wanna go back to the motel."

Sam snapped out of it. "What is it 6.30 already?"

Dean looked puzzled… "How'd you know that?" he asked checking his watch and noting it was exactly 6.30

Sam haled himself to his feet and smiled at his brother gently. "You're like those mothers who know when their babies need to be fed by like….ESP. Mr Killmouseky rubs against your leg at exactly 6.30 wanting her dinner." He grinned at Dean.

"Your _baby_ needs her _mommy_."

"I'll kill you." Dean said not in the least bit embarrassed but beneath his clam façade his voice was low with fury.

"One day I will kill you and I won't even feel bad after."

"You'd feel a little bad."

Dean shook his head, giving an old German Shepard a pat through the bars of her cage.

"Yes you would, you'd even cry at my funeral."

"I so would not!" Dean said meanly.

"You'd bawl your eyes out." Dean refused to combat that remark.

"It would be pitiful, you all wracked with heart wrenching sobs, clear blue tears running down your cheeks, you standing alone by my graveside until all the other people were gone. And then you'd throw yourself into the freshly dug dirt, yelling at the unfairness of it all."

"Get over yourself you narcissistic bastard."

Sam grinned, a stupid smile that showed all his perfect white teeth.

Dean looked at his brother from beneath the cap and a shock of pink hair that was curling to his forehead with the sweat.

"Just pick one already." He said yawning loudly in fake boredom.

"I can't choose, I want them All!"

"Well you can't have them all, you can only have one." He held up one finger, the middle one "Count them Sammy O-N-E"

Sam gave him the bird back before turning back to the cages.

"Help me chose then"

"Here's one Sam." Dean said pointing to a small cage toward the back of the room. Sam wandered over and after taking one glance at the dog jumped back in fright. Dean crouched down in front of the cage but kept his distance from the growling dog.

"Oh Sam she'd be perfect, you're the perfect couple. Sammy and Delilah"

The cage above the horrible bald miniature Chihuahua had a brass name plate that said her name. Sam moved away quickly and unlocked the cage of another, less scary, potential pet.

The tiny dog bared her teeth at Dean who grinned right back at the little menace. Obviously the mutt wasn't used to people finding her a source of amusement and she started barking threateningly at Dean's cocky face. Dean waggled his fingers enticingly in front of the cage and she rammed against the cage door wrestling the lock loose.

The next thing Sam saw as Dean lying flat on his back in the middle if the cold tiled floor screaming like a girl.

"Get it off; get it off, GET IT OFF OF ME!!!!"

The Chihuahua had her teeth dug deep into Dean's hand and he swung it about violently, she refused to let go and started to fly around when Dean pulled himself to his feet and shook his arm aggressively trying to dislodge his attacker.

That dog was a suicidal maniac; Sam thought to himself as he stood sheltered behind a column of unused cages with his chosen pet and watched in morbid fascination as Dean tried to extricate himself from the sticky situation.

Eventually, when the blood flowing from Dean's hand was getting to the point where Sam was starting to worry about blood loss, Dean grabbed the thing by its tail and pulled, the dog yelped in surprise and thus let go of her death grip on Dean's hand. Dean all but threw it back into its cage and bolted for the door, leaving Sam to bring up the rear.

Two hours later, after a visit to the hospital to get a tetanus shot and some stiches, a trip to the 24hr store for a bag of M&M's and a bottle of vodka to dull the pain. (Dean refused to take medication unless it was absolutely necessary, he preferred alcohol to Panadol), then a quick stop to the Chinese Take Away place for dinner, Dean finally fed Mr Killmouseky her dinner and flopped into bed, willing this awful day into the far reaches of his memory.

Sam flung a blanket over his brother's unconscious form and got into his own bed, whistling softly a dark shape padded across the room and Sam lifted it onto the end of the bed. His black Labrador puppy was indistinguishable in the darkness of the room but its wet nose against his feet informed Sam that he was comfortable. The little dog snuffled into the blankets Sam had dropped on the end of the bed and breathed out, it sounded almost like a contented sigh.

Sam echoed his new friend's sentiments grinning at the thought if what Dean would say when he heard what he'd decided to name his pup.

"Peanuts."

You know you want too….. Press that pretty purple button and let me know what you think.

Next chapter…. The pets go on a hunt. Yippee!


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